


No One Knows

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anonymous Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Creampie, Galaxy Garrison, Heat Wave: An ABO Voltron Zine, Implied Mpreg, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Omega Shiro (Voltron), Shiro/Others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Keith catches Shiro sneaking out one night, long after curfew.Turns out the Golden Boy has plenty of secrets of his own.





	No One Knows

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ABO Voltron Zine!

Keith hadn’t known what to expect, when he had spotted a familiar form slipping out of the Garrison’s gates from his spot on the roof. He had mostly been surprised and interested—and very, very curious—to see that Shirogane Takashi, the golden boy of the Garrison, was slipping out after curfew.

So he had, of course, decided to do the same.

The direction of Shiro’s escape didn’t surprise him: sneaking out for “a night on the town” was common enough. Though usually cadets went with friends, and Keith knew very well that Shiro had plenty of those. They were always hanging off of him, after all, and though he did take some time away from his own studies to encourage Keith’s pilot pursuits, they kept him pretty busy. So hey, maybe Shiro just needed a break.

What _did_ surprise him, though, was when Shiro made a quick stop in front of a notoriously seedy bar, peeling off his Garrison uniform to reveal tight black jeans and a too-small tank—and holy shit, it was a racerback, and Keith had _never_ known that Shiro’s back and biceps and shoulderblades were so fucking… _defined._

Shiro, unconcerned and confident, strode towards the dive. Keith could only follow.

It was about when he stepped through the door that he realized his mistake, that his curiosity might very well be the death of him. Because he caught that scent, the one of the person he was following—of Shiro.

Shirogane Takashi, exemplary student, earnest and bright and brilliant and kind, the paragon of a hardworking omega, who ensured that everyone who ever met him saw his abilities first and his status second, had not taken his suppressants that day.

And Shiro had just walked through a room full of alphas and up to the bar, very blatantly showing off… well, just about everything.

Oh, Keith had no doubt that the people in the room weren’t _only_ alphas; after all, the place had a reputation for seedy hookups, and attracted all sorts. But as he slunk into the room after Shiro, tucking himself into a shadowy corner, they were all he noticed. He bristled defensively at the sight of their eyes on this omega, ready for the taking by any one of them—who could earn it.

But Keith certainly wasn’t going to try. He knew better, knew that the sight of a familiar face from the Garrison might very well spook Shiro, send him fleeing back to campus and _never_ meeting Keith’s eyes again. And right now, all Keith could think about was watching him.

That isn’t to say that no one else did: Keith watched them, almost enjoyed the sight of Shiro flirting circles around them all, keeping it casual, classy, and untouchable.

A server came up to ask Keith if he wanted anything, clearly hoping for tips, not even bothering to card him. Keith just waved him off, but when he looked back, Shirogane Takashi was Shiro-gone.

He sat in silence for several moments, frantically scanning the room. Had he gone to the bathroom? Had he…

A door in the back of the room swung open, and Keith caught a momentary glimpse of outside. Momentary because, a split second later, Shiro stepped back in, and all of the breath left Keith’s chest in a sigh of relief.

But something, he realized, was a little off: the way Shiro’s chest rose and fell heavily, the way he walked a little funny, the red marks on his neck…

Oh. _Oh._

His face flushed just as red as those marks as he realized what Shiro had just been doing.

Keith watched him play for a little longer, then—the atmosphere shifted, and another alpha in the room caught Shiro’s interest, met whatever standards Shiro had at that moment, and they disappeared back out the door together.

Keith groaned and buried his face in his arms.

—

He didn’t know why he stayed. He definitely didn’t have enough guts to actually proposition Shiro, and sitting there watching was doing him no good besides fueling a growing frustration in his abdomen, a prickling through his body of need, of _want._ Watching those muscles ripple underneath Shiro’s biceps…

Keith wanted to drag his nails down them, to leave his mark, to hear him _scream._

But as Keith sat, stewing in a pit of resentful lust, he realized that Shiro had vanished again. Not just that, but that he had been gone for a very long time.

He turned quickly, checking the clock— _shit!_ If Shiro were at all reasonable, he had probably either headed back to the Garrison or found someone who would spring for a hotel room.

If Keith were at all reasonable, he’d head back as well.

But something tugged at him, urging him to stay. Shiro, with another alpha? He _hated_ the thought. He should scent him out, track him down, make him—

 _No_ , he told himself fiercely. No, he isn’t yours, Keith. You _need_ to calm down.

He stood, pushing back the chair with a little more force than he had intended, and hurried out the door.

Keith knew how to make his way back into the Garrison after sneaking out, of course, even as distracted as he was.

Shiro. _Shiro._ The paragon of discipline, _sneaking out._ And it wasn’t as if he had no other physical alternative, either—the Garrison had breeding facilities, and would have been happy to set Shiro up with an alpha to satisfy any needs he might have. No, this had to be because Shiro _enjoyed_ it, the anonymity of it all.

His fists tightened as he thought of Shiro in that tank top, his shoulders bare, that cocky, flirty grin directed at whoever he had decided would earn his favor this time around.

Keith wondered if Shiro would dare if he found himself full with Keith’s pups. With Keith’s claim mark on the back of his neck.

Something pulled at Keith’s gut, and as he stumbled back into his room, he had to inhale sharply, clapping a hand over his mouth. He wanted to be there, in that room of alphas, proving himself. He wanted to be the one that Shiro chose. The _only_ one.

Simmering frustration threatened to boil over, and as Keith finally made his way to the bed, he thrust a hand down the front of his pants. His fingers curled around his cock, already hard and aching, though he knew he would find no satisfaction tonight.

His rut lasted a week, and had to be the most painful one of his life.

—

Keith still couldn’t believe that he had turned into this.

It had been years since he had been worked up enough to rut, and though the campus medic had been nothing if not understanding, explaining that this happened to alphas of any age, he still found himself in a dark mood when he finally came down. She had even offered him an appointment at the campus’s breeding facility, to “pass it more comfortably,” but he had quickly turned it down. He didn’t particularly want his first time to be clinical, or impersonal.

Besides, whatever omega was assigned to him, it wouldn’t be _Shiro._

For his part, Shiro seemed to be none the worse for wear, nor did he seem to have any idea that Keith had followed him that night. He offered Keith friendly nods in the hallway, just as he did with everyone else he sort of knew. For him, nothing had changed.

And Keith was going to _die._

He knew that it was a terrible idea, continuing to sneak out, keep watch, stay alert for a repeat performance from Shiro. But he couldn’t stop himself.

And when, roughly a month later, he spotted that familiar form sneaking out from his spot on the roof, he didn’t even hesitate before following.

The familiar prickling in his skin was back, and Keith had to thrust down his frustration. A monthly rut, it seemed, was going to be the norm for a while, and following Shiro wouldn’t help him work them back down to being less frequent.

He went anyway.

This time, sneaking out didn’t prove to be quite as easy, and by the time Keith had dodged some minorly annoying hall monitors and even a faculty member or two, Shiro was completely out of sight. But Keith continued doggedly onward, making his way to the bar that Shiro had patronized last time.

And found him nowhere in sight.

He swallowed, a little anxiously. He supposed that Shiro might have found somewhere else, or might even have a sort of rotation between different dives going on. But this one was the most notorious on the town for casual hookups, and when Keith lifted his nose into the air, he thought he caught the faintest hint of…

Yeah. He was gonna stick around. After a moment of consideration, he headed for the back door, reaching out to grip the handle.

But it burst open before he could pull, and he had to jump back to avoid being mowed over. Ignoring the vaguely annoyed look the alpha strutting in shot him, Keith slunk out, nostrils flaring, senses heightened.

He could smell it. Could smell the unmistakable scent of needy, used omega. And as he stumbled forward, around a small wall that had been erected for presumable privacy, he froze.

Shiro, bent over what had to be a breeding mount, tank top rucked up around his ribs, tight pants yanked down around his knees. And even in the dark—though perhaps it was his imagination—Keith swore he could see the glimmer of slick between those thighs.

A flawless picture of debauchery and indulgence, with its subject spread out all for Keith to see.

And he couldn’t move.

—

Shiro usually needed at least three rounds to get this worked up, but the first guy had been something.

He still wasn’t sure he could feel his legs, wasn’t sure he would be able to right himself, dress, head back into Dionysus and pick up another alpha. Not for several minutes, at the very least, and amazing as his first orgasm of the night had been, he hoped it wouldn’t be his last.

He closed his eyes, groaning and tipping his head forward, shifting over the mount to get more comfortable. So what to do until…

A slight breeze played across Shiro’s face, and a sharp scent caught his nose.

He straightened slightly, though made no move to cover himself, to pull his clothing back on. Because he _knew_ that smell.

With a tired smile, he turned his head in the direction of the interloper.

“You’re about to rut, you know,” he groaned.

He was met with silence, but Shiro knew he wasn’t wrong. He had smelled plenty of them, had _triggered_ plenty of them, and knew it far too well by now.

“I can smell it.”

At that, Shiro heard a sharp inhalation of breath, and he grinned. Probably someone young, then. Someone who had thought themselves eager to bury themself in a willing omega, but once faced with the opportunity…

“You should come take care of that.”

Knowing the sight he made, Shiro braced himself, spreading his thighs once again, grinding forward slightly against the surface. Despite what he had thought a few moments ago, he could feel himself growing worked up once again, the result of the beginnings of his heat. And for a moment, he thought he had been so distracted that he had missed the sound of the alpha leaving, but the sound of a foot falling on asphalt, of a hesitant step forward, assured him otherwise.

And Shiro could smell him now, smell the scent of want, of _need_ , but also of uncertainty. And there was something else, too, something sweet and almost… innocent.

“Your first time?” he panted, heady with the knowledge that this alpha wanted him, and he shifted, spreading his thighs further. “It’s all right. Come knot me.”

He risked a glance over his shoulder to find that the form was silhouetted in the dim light from the bar, and he couldn’t see them, not really. But he knew that his own face would be visible, and he knew how dark, how needy his eyes must look.

The alpha didn’t seem to be able to say no: he stumbled over, and Shiro, grinning so wide his face hurt, turned away, spreading back over the mount. He could hear the telltale sound of uncertain fingers fumbling at pants, and he had time for one last thought— _I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s first before_ —and then a thick cock pressed at his entrance, pressed _into_ him, as the alpha snarled, shoving a hand down into Shiro’s back and thrusting forward, just the way Shiro liked it.

“Oh _god!_ ” he gasped, writhing underneath this new alpha even as a pair of teeth sank into the back of his shoulder. As the length filled him, there was something desperate, eager, almost a raw fascination in its movements, and Shiro relished it.

He felt those lips ghost over the back of his neck, and he let out a shiver of a mixture of fear and anticipation, but he wore the same reinforced collar as always. There would be no “accidental” claims.

But this one didn’t seem to be interested in taking Shiro that way; no, he just wanted to be inside him. Shiro whined at the eagerness, the blatant inexperience, as the alpha—god, he must be young—fucked into him with a raw fascination that left Shiro feeling oddly… treasured.

The thick length buried in him fully, and he screwed his eyes shut, shaking all over at the wonderful fullness of it all. “God,” he whimpered. “Your cock—” The familiar sensation of being used, owned, _possessed_ rocked through him as the alpha gripped Shiro’s hips, thrusting harder again, and again, gaining steadily in force and confidence.

“Like that,” Shiro panted, shuddering violently. He needed this, needed— “Breed me full—knot me—” He could feel the alpha stiffen at that, and pushed his hips back insistently. “Oh, god, _do it._ ”

A ragged crack sounded in the groan behind him, and something seemed to let loose. The cloth of the alpha’s shirt pressed into Shiro’s back, and Shiro felt it, the telltale sensation of a swelling knot, and he threw back his head and keened.

A hand reached up to cup one side of his face (gloves? Fingerless gloves; that was odd, in a desert) and tilt it to the side, where a desperate mouth pressed against his jaw, right below his ear, a sloppy kiss with an unexpected sweetness to it. Shiro twisted his head more, trying in vain to catch those lips, but not quite able to reach.

The knot had reached its full size now, large enough to stretch Shiro as it withdrew. Though he'd had larger, the sensation of fullness nearly too much to handle sent ecstasy coursing through him, his toes curling, his body opening for this alpha. This alpha who ran his hands reverently against Shiro’s sides, who groaned that Shiro was beautiful, who gasped raggedly that he was going to fill Shiro up with his pups, that he couldn’t wait to see him bred and fat and happy—

And when he heard his name, the orgasm surged through him, wiping out every other trace of thought in a blinding rush of pleasure, and it was only with the barest hint of awareness that he realized the other alpha had stiffened as well, that a thick, hot, wet sensation flooded him, leaving him full and sated.

He pressed his forehead to the surface of the mount, eyes screwed closed as he rode the waves of pleasure rocking through him.

Amazing. Absolutely amazing. He never chose someone to spend the night with this early, but... this had been unlike anything else he had ever experienced.

But he hadn’t told this alpha his name. And while he didn’t know the voice, necessarily, there could be only one explanation for where this alpha had come from. And Shiro had a rule: no one he knew.

“As long as I don’t see you,” he finally said, voice quiet. “I’ve got a hotel room. Meet me there. It’ll be dark.”

“I—yeah, okay,” croaked the barely-there voice from behind him. But there was a hesitation in it that cracked Shiro’s heart along with the voice.

On an impulse, he closed his eyes, turned, and did something he never, ever did.

The kiss took a moment to initiate, with some guesswork, but then lasted several, and Shiro could taste the desperation in it, the need to please, the uncertainty. He slid his tongue into the alpha’s mouth, savoring it, even as he fumbled to put his clothing back together.

“You were wonderful,” he murmured, pulling back, then turning away. “Meet me in twenty minutes.”

And then Shiro gave him the address.

—

The next morning left Shiro sore, sated, and blissful.

The alpha had left: he had respected Shiro’s wish not to see him, and the resulting hours in bed had been absolutely mindblowing. And now Shiro was in the bathroom of the hotel room, staring into the mirror at the collar around his neck, the bite marks on his shoulders, and then down into his hand at the small, white pill.

The Garrison had provisions for pregnancies, of course; some couldn’t manage heats for too long without them. But Shiro had never had a particular desire to be one of them, and had always taken precautions the morning after.

He fiddled with the pill, rolling it between his fingers—

And it dropped into sink, rolling around once before disappearing down the drain. Shiro stared after it for a long moment.

“Oops,” was all he said, finally, voice soft, before turning around to go find his clothes.

 


End file.
